It may seem kind of odd, but in all likelihood, I have been a furry all my lifeI just didn't know it. Oh so innocently I read all the horse books I could get my hands on; dreamed my furry dreams; and then shoved it all into a tiny little box, locked and sealed it, and dealt with society.
Decades passed. And I found out about furry. But I was afraid. Afraid of what it could mean, of what it could do to me, of what it could cause to be done to me.
What you need to know is that I am a very shy person. At least in large groups, and with strangers. Getting onto the transformation mailing list (TSA-talk) took me well over a year. Getting onto YIM took a year of urging by friends. And IRC close to two years.
Finding that well-concealed box has not been easy! I went to a small artists bash over a year ago. Then a frighteningly huge local furry Halloween partywhich I spent in a blind panic, until I found a comfortably-sized subgroup within the mob to interact with. More recently, I've been going to small local gatherings, meeting people slowly and surely.
And safely.
Thus I worked my way through the chains and the straps, and the booby traps and the locks
and let my inner furry out.
Now, things are actually going well in my life. I have a new job that is going well, I got a story published in a magazine that pays real money. But what Im ready to bounce off the wall for is this: Finally, at long, long last, there is an actual fursuit in front of me, actually walking beside me; when I can talk about dreams and wonders and not have to camouflage it as stories and research and excuses for writing said fiction.
To just be what I always dreamed. To imagine, and dream, and discover the contents of that long-hidden box, to finally explore and share them, to find such a hidden part of me and let it fly free.
The feeling is indescribable.
I know Ive been rambling, but I had to work my way through this to understand. To see why I'm changing, and yet staying the same.
Thank you. Thank you all so very much for existing.